


Indecency in the Workplace

by 100dabbo



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Butt Slapping, Coming Untouched, Daddy Kink, Desk Sex, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Feminization, Lingerie, M/M, Office Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24962674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100dabbo/pseuds/100dabbo
Summary: After a stressful day of work, Robert is still behind his desk by the evening. That is until Eames walks into his office.
Relationships: Eames/Robert Fischer
Comments: 9
Kudos: 34





	Indecency in the Workplace

A busy day in the office packed with stress and overloaded with responsibility found Robert Fischer still behind his desk as dusk was setting into the sky. After having seen the departure of all other workers in the office, as well as the arrival of the building’s cleaning staff, he held the productivity of his day into question; had he been useful at all, or was just sitting around, making more detriment to his father’s business than it was worth?

No. Not his father’s business. _His_ business. He had to remember that.

He reclined in his chair, swivelling it away from the desk to direct his view out of the window, a vast outlook on the city of New York, gradually becoming shrouded in darkness. He’d been so invested in his work that he’d neglected to turn on his light, and without his eyes straining on those tiny letters printed on huge stacks of paper, he could see clearly while nightfall approached the city, bright lights flickering on in the skyscrapers all around him. 

It was almost serene to look at, and if not for the constant blare of traffic down below and the soar of planes up above, Fischer might have relaxed himself just a touch to find enough tranquillity to collect himself before going home.

A deep breath in and slow exhale ensued, those soft eyes closing to let his mind drift away from his responsibility for a mere second. Then someone rapped on the door.

His eyes immediately flicked open and onto his Rolex, sure that the cleaning staff wouldn’t have made their way around to his office yet. Spinning back around in his chair, he faced the door, brow knotted, uncertain of who could have been standing behind it.

“Come in…” He said somewhat timidly, his eyes watching the handle pull down and the door swing open. It was Eames. So, not _everyone_ had gone home.

Relief flooded him the second he recognised the silhouette approaching the desk, looking down at him with his hands tucked into his pockets. His head angled to the side and offered a warm smile.

“I haven’t seen you all day, where’ve you been, hm?” He asked softly, reaching his hand out to touch at Fischer’s jaw, running his thumb across his smooth cheek. Those wide eyes only looked up at him and glinted in the darkness.

“I’ve been busy all day.” Robert explained with brevity, letting his gaze drift back to his window and the city on the other side of it. He couldn’t help but sigh.

“Come on,” Eames said, bringing his hand away from the man’s face, using it to gesture at the papers on his desk, “You need go home and deal with all this in the morning,” 

Robert listened to him without saying a word and stood from his chair, still unable to shift his melancholy expression.

“Tell you what, Robert, if I can make you forget about all of this bullshit, then I’ll come back to yours, how’s that sound?” He offered, unable to help himself run his eyes over Robert’s body in one slow glance up and down. 

The way his eyes smiled and his grinning lips quirked made it clear what his method of ‘forgetting’ was to entail, and Robert saw it straight away. His blue eyes widened, shocked at the audacity of the man to suggest such things at work, because even though everyone had gone home and he was yearning for a fuck to take his mind away from his responsibility, he still maintained the want to be somewhat professional in the workplace, _his_ workplace. He remained silent, not accepting or denying the offer, knowing that the little secret he had concealed beneath his clothes since the beginning of the day would be revealed should he be undressed right there in his office by the other man’s strong hands and forceful tugs.

He swallowed hard as Eames’ hand snaked around his waist, his thumb gently plucking at the suspenders beneath his suit jacket, pulling at them as his face leaned closer to land a scratchy kiss on his cheek. It was close to making Fischer melt it was so soft, but then the man’s lustful intentions became more overt when the hand that was slinked around his middle slipped its way further down, sliding onto his arse where it gripped to pull him closer,

“So is that a yes?” Eames asked, kneading at him gently. Despite wanting it, despite _needing_ it, the man still shook his head,

“We- we can just go home now, do it there, there’s still cleaners in the build—”

“That’s not the agreement, Bobby,” Robert’s dick twitched at him using that name, “The agreement is that if I can take your mind of your work, then I will come home with you afterward,” Fischer’s hands held onto the arms as they moved around him, still intently listening, “So, I’ll ask again. Is that a yes?”

Fischer debated whether it was worth it; how Eames might react when he saw what he’d worn for him, the potential for the cleaners to hear their antics, the disgrace that would be brought upon him if they were to be caught, versus the one fundamental positive. Getting fucked. 

So, he nodded gently like a shy little whore, an action resulting in the slow shift of Eames’ hands away from his middle and onto his suit jacket, pulling it off his limbs and discarding it onto his chair, then to his tie, pulling him into a deep kiss as his fingers worked to untie it from around his neck, pulling it off to dump it with the jacket, the both of them working together to force open his shirt; Robert slipping the suspenders from his shoulders and kicking the shoes off his feet as Eames unfastened each button from its hole, taking out his cuff-links and scattering them carelessly onto the desk.

They separated as soon as Eames began unfastening Robert’s trousers, wanting to see with his own eyes what he’d chosen to wear beneath. What was revealed didn’t disappoint him in the slightest.

Tight little silk panties hugging Robert’s cock, trimmed with lace and attached by garters and stockings. 

Even in the mild darkness he could see a little wet patch of pre-come where the head of his dick was confined. Jesus Christ, was he really that touched starved that just a little caress here and there could get him into this mess? Regardless, Eames loved to see it, and he grinned, returning his hands to his arse where they squeezed tightly in a possessive grip.

“Now, Bobby, what have we got here?” He asked, biting his lip as he leched, “I’m not sure it’s appropriate to be wearing these sorts of things to work, do you?” Fischer’s heavy lids blinked slowly, his parted mouth letting out little breaths. He shook his head gently. “Well, do you have anything to say for yourself, hm?” He goaded, smoothing his fingertips over the luxurious silk.

“I wore it for you, Daddy…” Fischer whispered, trailing his touch up to Eames’ collar, gently fingering at the fabric.

“Is that right?” Eames continued, leaning closer towards him. Robert nodded once more. “Are you sure it’s not because you like to be a little slut?” And he slapped him harshly with the palm of his hand, a severe blow that make him gasp, “Do you want the lot of them in this office to look at you, to see the faint little outline of these under your trousers and think about you because that’s the kind of cheap whore you are?”

Robert attempted to defend himself, wanting to explain that it was all for him, that he’d worn them with the intention of surprising him at home, that none of it could ever be for anyone else in the world,

“No, Daddy, I—”

“Listen to me, Bobby, you’re not leaving this office until you get a little lesson in whose whore you are, understand?” 

Robert was silent after that, his doe eyes simply staring back at him, awaiting his instruction. To Eames’ credit, he _had_ already forgotten all about his workload since this promising turn of events had arisen.

The other man reached for the switch on Fischer’s desk light, turning it on to give him enough light to look at him fully in all his lascivious glory. Just by looking at those lips of his he could tell they were desperate to be wrapped around a cock. 

“On your knees.” He commanded, delighted with the way Robert sank down, his hands lingering across him and slipping down from his shoulders, passing over his chest before landing at his crotch, stroking at his groin to get him ready. His tongue swiped across his lips, wetting them with his saliva, readying them for providing pleasure, then Eames took his belt buckle in hand, slipping it out of the loopholes and zipping down his fly, fishing his cock out from his underwear. He held it in his hand, Robert’s eyes concentrated on the head. “Look up at me.”

Robert obeyed, tilting his head just a little to lock their eyes together, the other man’s stiffening member in the base of his view. The smirking man above him said nothing more, stroking himself right in front of his face, taunting him, teasing him, _tormenting_ him with exactly what he wanted.

He pushed it against Robert’s lips, the wet, pillowy softness of them divine in every way, dragging it right across the supple flesh that yearned to take it in, and that without explicit command, could never transgress against Eames’ instruction. So, he sat there, knelt below him with eyes wide open, barely blinking, Eames provoking him in such a delightfully cruel way that he couldn’t help but open his mouth just a little, allowing it just barely to slip through and brush against the insides of his lip.

“Please can I suck it, Daddy?” He whispered against it, each hot little exhale with his words a tiny bit of bliss that convinced Eames to allow it, watching as Robert fidgeted below him, his thumbs playing with the elastic garters to keep his hands busy.

“Whose slut are you?”

“I’m your slut, Daddy.”

“Open up then…”

Fischer did what was asked of him and did so with joy, gaping his mouth wide open to allow Eames’ cock into it until it was fully immersed between his cheeks, sliding in and out with a thrusting rhythm, his soft lips dragging across the skin for Eames’ pleasure. He hummed to welcome it deep inside his throat as a slow, steady hand moved into his hair, tracing its fingers through until they found a good grip, upon which the gentleness of its motion was replaced force that pulled his mouth further down, compelling him to engulf the entire member in his mouth, creating a divine gag to surface in his throat that forced him away to regain his breath.

Robert looked at Eames’ slicked cock with his bleary eyes before flicking his gaze back up at him. His teeth nipped at his lip, embarrassed he couldn’t keep it down for longer.

“Sorry, Daddy…” He lamented as his face bloomed pink, his fingers still fiddling with his garters.

Eames cupped his jaw, pinching his cheeks together, those drooling lips shining in the bright desk light.

“Get up.” He deadpanned, waiting as the man stood up from his knees, and as soon as he was upright, Eames grabbed at his waist, pushing him forth to bend him over his own desk, his cheek pressed into the papers he was stressing over not five minutes ago. He fingered at the silk covering Fischer’s rear and traced his palm across the garters. “Good boys do as they’re told, don’t they?” Eames asked, pulling the panties to the side to give his eyes a perfect view of that tight, twitching hole. 

Robert nodded, throwing his glance over his shoulder to catch the licentious gaze in the other man’s eyes, “So, you’re gonna take this cock right up inside you, and let me know whose whore you are, yes?” He looked back at his entrance, taking no notice of the silent submissive nod he received to his question. He passed a thumb across it teasingly. “Fuck, you’re probably loose enough from last night, aren’t you my boy?”

Fischer nodded again, returning his head forward at the moment Eames churned his tongue to spit out saliva onto it, the sensation of it dripping between his cheeks and the brief rub against it with the tip of his finger making him gasp. That rock-hard tip was smoothing against him a second later, slowly teasing as if he hadn’t received enough of that already, and he longed for it to be inside more than anything. He groaned deeply with frustration. 

Eames chuckled at the noise, loving to see him in that desperate state. He decided he’d earned it, pressing the head into him before smoothly following with the rest, plunging it in its entirety inside of him, his whole body to leaning over Fischer’s bare back.

“I’m your slut, Daddy, I’m all yours!” Robert panted, the initial intrusion stretching him out, and Eames hummed behind him in accordance, leaning himself further forward as the next thrusts came through. He pressed his lips to the back of Fischer’s neck and sucked on his skin, grunting against him, the possessive grip he held on his narrow waist tightening with each drive, his cock slamming into him with so much power that Robert’s desk rocked, all sorts of pens and pencils scattering across it.

Fischer’s own cock was getting harder by the second, still trapped inside those tight panties, straining from the tension and throbbing almost painfully with the need for some sort of friction, the consistent slams to his sweet spot just not enough for him, the insatiable whore that he was. He moaned out and whined with gritted teeth, his scratchy voice begging out,

“Please, Daddy, please touch me! Please let me come!”

The words he yelled out went straight to Eames’ dick, and yet he still refused to do as Robert begged, the strong tips of his fingers more interested in remaining on that little waist to make their marks than to offer any other form of touch.

“I don’t think so,” He grunted, “Only good boys deserve to be touched, after all.”

“I have been a good boy!” Robert pleaded, choking on his own moaning, “I have, Daddy! I have!”

“Wearing your under-things to work like this is _very_ naughty, Bobby!” And he struck his palm across his arse again, making him cry out once more. “You know these are only for Daddy, don’t you?” Another slap, harsher and stronger than before, met with the skin that was already turning red and raw.

Fischer was close to drawing blood the way his teeth embedded into his lip, his eyes screwed shut through deep concentration to hold onto himself; he was yearning for release, and could only beg for it once more,

“Please, I’ll be a good boy! I’m _your_ little slut, Daddy, honest!”

In Eames’ next thrust, he stopped at the hilt, his body chest flush with Robert’s back, the hard tip of his cock pressing into Robert’s prostate. He whimpered below him, tensely clenched around him.

“You’ll be my good boy, you say?” Eames purred, putting pressure on Fischer’s back with his weight.

“Uh huh!” The other man cried, desperately loud, uncaring that any cleaners might have been aware of what was going on inside that office. 

“And you’ll only be letting Daddy see you in these tight little panties of yours?” He ran his thumb across the silk, letting goose bumps pebble Robert’s skin, then gripped to his thigh, kneading the lean muscle before propping it up onto the desk.

“Of course!”

“Come for me then.”

He drew out and slammed back in with his newly gained leverage, the guttural groans leaving Robert getting louder and louder until he climaxed with a final wail, coming into the luxurious silk of his panties, his cock completely untouched. It kept twitching even after he was completely spent, slurring out a ‘thank you’ and a ‘daddy’ through faint pants, his body still subject to the vigorous fucking from behind, gladly taking each divine thrust, practically drooling on his desk from the pleasure.

“Now you’ve gotten these lovely panties so dirty, you won’t mind Daddy doing the same hm?”

Robert shook his head weakly, gasping at the loss when Eames pulled out his dick, relishing in the noises as the man grunted, stroking himself furiously to finish, eventually painting white stripes across Robert’s thigh and letting the spoils coat those stockings and garters.

When he blinked his eyes open, his vision hazy and glazed over with an afterglow, he caught a blurred sight of the document he was laying on, remembering what he was stressed about in the first place. It all seemed so trivial in retrospect. 

Eames zipped himself back up, taking the handkerchief from his pocket to wipe Fischer clean, watching him ease himself off of his desk and flop back into his chair, still a panting mess. His hair was all dishevelled, flopping over his forehead and covering his eyes. Eames couldn’t help but run his fingers through it, looking down softly to whisper,

“Let’s get you home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :)  
> Comments are always appreciated! Check me out on [Tumblr](https://100dabbo.tumblr.com/)!


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